Deeds and Debts
by Srishti Nautiyal19
Summary: One night. One game. One room. And two enemies. But come morning, will they ever be the same? A story of new discoveries, denied feelings, obsessive twists. And perhaps, the greater good. MATURE THEMES. DARKER SETTINGS. Non-Con references.
1. chapter 1

**AUTHOR'S NOTE- Greetings, readers. I earlier had a story on my profile but I have had it deleted because of my lack of imagination. And then I got this plot out of nowhere. I'll try to be more regular with updates this time. But for that, I'd need all your inputs and reviews. Do comment about the dares you'd like to have and any other detail you would want the story to focus on. All your suggestions are of great importance.** **So, let's get started.**

 _11 pm, Room of Requirements_

No one looks back at life and remembers the night they got plenty of sleep. Turns out, it was one of those nights for a certain Gryffindor and her Slytherin counterpart. Having spent seven years as a Hogwarts student, one would expect to have experienced everything that magic has to present. But alas, if life was magic, color it surprise because that's what magic is - surprise!

And while some may be fascinated by this bundle of amazement, two people were not. Who would be if they were being stuck in a room for the past half an hour or so, with their arch nemesis for company, and no escape door in sight.

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

 _10:30 pm, Seventh Floor_

Hermione had just escaped her demise. After all, Gryffindor Saturday nights were nothing if not lethal and not in a good way. Every Saturday, all the gryffindors would huddle around in the common room to play a disgustingly perverse game of Truth Or Dare. **_Not that Hermione was a prude, mind you._** But seeing how everyone around her was already riding through their own realm of romanticism, it was not uncommon for her to feel just the tad bit left out. Not to mention, the dares given to her were highly unjust! One moment, Ginny gets a dare to take a body shot from Parvati's navel, and the next, Hermione gets a dare to..., well..,um..Hermione, you.,sing the Hogwarts school song!

She was eighteen, not eight, for Merlin's sake. And her housemates should stop treating her like one. So what if her copulating experience wasn't that copious, or was not present at all, that could change if only her friends would stop treating her like a prepubescent child.

And so she had snuck in to the Room of Requirements to loosen up and had asked for a place to actually enjoy herself and her more vagrant, mischievous (nonexistent as of now) side.

Little did she know, she had just asked for her death sentence. _Sweet, little death._

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

 _10:25 pm, Outside Room of Requirements_

Draco Malfoy was bored, tedious, and every other synonym of bored. It was a Saturday night and just like its predecessors, had found itself being unwinded rather hotly in the dungeons down below. Slytherins were shagging left, right, centre, and even in diagnols. It was like an orgy, for fuck's sake. And while Draco usually seized these nights to lighten himself, he couldn't even get it up tonight. The girls were getting quite predictable, to say the least. He'd been with them long enough to have become accustomed to a regular schedule. Fifteen minutes to choose his paramour. Five minutes foreplay (if any). Fourty percent chances, they'll make it to the dorm. Or just get on with it. He wouldn't be completely undressed, neither would she. A few hard strokes. She'd scream like a banshee. She'll come. He will, once he'll get her to shut up. And that's that.

And so he had extracted himself from those, and had found his way to this little haven. He required an out of this universe experience with someone. Anyone who'd not bore him to tears. An exciting night with a nymphomaniac.

Little did he know, his goddess was coming straight from the lion's den.

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

 _Present_

"We're stuck in here Granger. And its your fault."

"How in the world is this my fault if you felt inexorably horny tonight?"

"Like you came here to start a missionary." Draco scoffed.

"Shut up, you prat. We need to work this out. The room wouldn't let us out until our requirements are fulfilled. I asked for a daring night. To loosen up. What about you?"

The wheels of her brain were running now.

"Just to get it up, and eventually, well spent." Draco stated with a smirk at Hermione's burning cheeks.

"Deplorable!" Hermione shrieked. This was not she had imagined 'loosening up' would feel like.

"You are. Now what do you wger we do? I for one, have no interest, whatsoever in wasting the night with a shriveled up prude." Draco drawled.

"I'm not a prude. And neither do I fancy a night with you unless it involves my hands and your dead corpse." Hermione was soon reaching her final straw.

"Didn't peg you for necromancy, Granger."

"Shut up, Malfoy. If you can't help, at least don't worsen the situation."

"I don't think that's plausible." Draco muttered.

"Me neither." Hermione concluded with a sigh.

But you know how it is with magic and mysteries. You always get what you least expect. And so, magic did its course.

They were proven wrong.

A scrap bit of parchment materialized out of thin air and landed in Draco's waiting hand.

And with it, landed a set if instructions that would put both their lives on chaos.

Written in an elegant scrawl were the words -

 ** _"Deeds and Debts"_**

 _Welcome to the game of candour and mischief._ _All the dares shall you do for def._ _But if you choose them not to do,_ _A debt to your partner shall beckon you._

"What kind of a joke is this?" Draco agitated.

"Clearly the worst one in history", Hermione retorted.

Both the teenagers were close to losing their precious temper.

They were both seething silently, both lost in their own raging storms when Draco broke the impending disaster.

" I reckon we'd be playing the game."

"What?! Have you lost it, Malfoy? Why wold you want to do any such thing? Its not children's play. We're not playing house. Its far more serious."

"And our only shot at leaving this wretched place. Think, Granger. I have no interest, whatsoever in candooling with a stuck up bitch like yourself. Yet, here we are. Now, get going, Granger. Let's just get this over with." Draco reasoned.

And there it was again, the S-T-U-C-K-U-P label. Hermione was not one of those girls who care a lot about their looks, but even she deserved to feel pretty. Or maybe you're just ugly that way. Her inner malevolence prickled.

Well, better to get this entire situation out altogether. That's the rational approach. More over, neither was overjoyed about their position. And so, whatever deeds they'd commit, they would be left and buried in this room forever. No attachments.

"No attachments to mudblood prudes, Granger."Draco's snide remarks cut through her reverie and she realized she had said everything out loud.

"No attachments to fidgety, fedit ferrets, Malfoy. But not a word goes out. And I'd need a wand oath. I know better than to trust a Slytherin."

"Like you have to ask. Get over it, prissy."

With that, both presented their wands and began the needed incantation. It involved a clause for neither of them to breathe a word of whatever would conspire tonight, to anyone outside this room. And the person to break the oath would have Weasley freckles all over their faces (Draco's addition) along with a compulsion to serve the other person for a complete day.

After the foundation had been laid, both of them took up the two seats available in the room before a warm fireplace. It was a cozy setting with plush burgundy carpets, dark, rich room decor, and a pleasing scent of mahogany, firewood, and something distinctly like home.

"So,...um, how do we play this game?" Hermione asked after a total of forty seconds of twiddling in her seat.

On the table between them, there appeared two bits of parchments. Hermione grabbed the upper one with the word 'DEED' written on it. And what a deed was it, indeed.

"Absolutely not!" Hermione cried out,"I am not doing that. Its all innane." She threw the paper and stood up.

By the time, Draco had got a hold of the paper. And what he read undid him entirely. And not in a pleasurable manner.

 _'Mark your partner's naked torso with your mouth.'_

Nevertheless, it was quite alright compared to how Granger is reacting.

"Its just a Hickey, you know." He tried to reason. "Not like I'd want to have your filthy teeth searing my precious flesh, but I think it's better than you blowing off some other partsbof my flesh." He smirked. She blushed.

"But, I can't..., I've never. I won't." She ended rather meekly. Its wasn't like she didn't know what marking meant. Its just that she didn't know how to do the job. And she certainly didn't want to do anything less than Hermione, i.e, perfect, in front of her enemy.

"So you'd rather the debt, Granger? Bleeding gryffindor." Draco was rather amused by the girl's earlier awkward denial to the deed. No wonder she was as plain as his great grandmother's garden trees.

As if on cue, the debt card fled straight into Hermione's hand.

If Hermione was flushed earlier, she was hyperventilating now. Never in a million years would she do something like this. It wasn't just deplorable and dreadful, but it was outright cruelty. This game was far more manipulative than the entire snake's dungeon down below.

There on the debt card was written a short, scornful command -

 _'Command the house eleves to beat up each other until one of them passes out.'_

Hermione would even marry Malfoy than commit this sin any day.

And so, with a sigh, she mustered all her Gryffindor courage and made her way to where Draco was lounging around. Clearly enjoying her distress.

"Let's just get this over with, ferret. Wouldn't want to keep your skinny bones waiting."

"They're skinny enough for you to want to jump them, Granger. Try to resist the temptation."

Draco was shocked when Hermione had finally conceded to follow through her deed. But one quick glance towards her debt card, and he knew that she would've even murdered him to save this bleeding house eleves. On second thoughts, she'd murder me even without the need, Draco mused.

And with that, he too, stood up and started unbutting his shirt just enough to bare his neck and shoulders to her, at a slow, calculative pace.

And finally, both of them stood before each other reeking of pride, dare, and a bit of anticipation.

 ** _Things were about to change, and they both knew it too._**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note - Thank you so much for your reviews, albeit a few. In retaliation to one of the reviews regarding Hermione being virgin and how its quite misogynistic of us to expect the females to be untainted maidens, I'd like to say that I do not condone that particular ideology in any shape or form. The only reason for my Hermione to be virginal here is because I wanted to present a story encompassing the first times. The first touch, first kiss, first mark, et cetera. Call me a dreamer, but I do believe that the first times are important. They're practically unforgettable for more than one reason.** **And being a female, I'm more comfortable writing about a girl discovering her sexuality than a boy. I know the sensations, and emotions of a female body better right now. In future, I'd write a first time for Draco too but till then, I'd have to grow as a writer. And thus, this is where I start from - my own skin.** **Thank you.**

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Draco had already bared his torso to Hermione, his shirt barely kept in place with the few buttons at the bottom. And Hermione could barely breath. His perfect collarbones stood dauntingly in contrast to the soft, supple skin of his upper pectorals. What a shame, he's an arse. She thought internally. _Had he been a bit decent, I'd have loved to run my lips over those collarbones._

And this thought brought her back to her surroundings because arse or not, she had to run her tongue and teeth over his neck and do more than just licking. But the slight little problem was she had next to no idea what the 'other things' would entail in reality, because eroticas are just a mirage of the real picture. At least, that's what she had thought before the night. But next morning would come with no gaurantee and perhaps an idea about the 'other things'.

"We don't have the whole day, you know. Stop objectifying me and get going, Granger." Draco said.

With that, he sat on a loveseat that had innocuously appeared in the room. Not his doing.

Hermione made her way to where he was lounging like he owned it all. Arrogant, little shite. Anything to keep my mind away from thinking about that sculpted torso...

With one final breath, she stood before him with all the courage he could muster. She could feel her heartbeat increasing. And her hands were definitely NOT becoming clammy.

"Go on, Granger." Draco appeared to be bored except for the amusing glint in his eyes. Seeing the uptight Gryffindor squirm was quite delightful, frankly.

"Um...well., I don't - I can't, I mean, where to-" Hermione was a bundle of nerves by now. It was like a nightmare to fail at such an innane task. She couldn't articulate her failure well enough before her arch nemesis.

Not that she had to.

"So, miss know-it-all doesn't know how to suck, and nibble, and bite. Sad." He purred the words salaciously enough to heighten the room's temperature a few good degrees, Hermione believed.

"That's not- but how, I know, but never have -" So much for articulation, she chided herself.

As amusing as it was, Draco was losing his interest and soon. He sighed.

"Sit down." He said, patting the space beside him.

Hermione did so without hesitation. She was already making an idiot out of herself, as it was. Listening to him couldn't have been worse, could it?

"Come closer." He said.

She did. But not close enough.

Sighing, Draco pulled her through the space, having her half perched on his lap.

She yelped.

"Put your hands around my neck." She did. This was all new for Hermione to be so intimate with a boy, let alone a Draco Malfoy on top of that. But she vowed to get this night over with as soon as possible.

And so for the next fifteen minutes, she did exactly what he told her.

With a bit of hesitation, she started unbuttoning the remaining few buttons, trying her best not to flick her hands over those defined abs of his or to even wander her fingertips beyond his navel. She them removed his shirt altogether.

And fuck, she couldn't breathe. This was the first time in her adult life that she was so close to a male's naked chest, feeling those pectorals ripple under her fingers. And that milky expanse of his neck... It wouldn't stay so clear long enough.

And that thought caused her to hyperventilate. The anticipation of what was to come through the night was borderline torture. Draco must have caught up her increasing discomfort for two arms suddenly wrapped around her waist, steading her on his lap or she would have surely fallen down.

At least, that's what she believed.

In reality, Draco was not bored right now, far from it. The innocent ministrations were pure torture. Her reluctance to feel his lower abdomen albeit the ever-present curious glances she was sending that way, the way her hands fleeked over her pectorals, all caused his breath to hitch and his muscles to flex. It was her sweetness, unlike every girl he's been with, that made him want more of it. Just a bit. But more. He wanted to touch her, like she was touching him, or maybe more passionately. It wasn't everyday he'd get a chance to hold the Gryffindor Princess. And so, on a whim, he held her in his arms. Her curves feeling delicious beneath his hands. It was the thrill of the forbidden.

At least, that's what he believed.

"Kiss my neck." He breathed.

And Hermione set to work. Anything to take her mind away from anxiety. She moved closer and paused for a few seconds, breathing in his sent - a hint of spicy, minty, sharp, with bouts of hot chocolate. A small, almost non-existential moan escaped her lips and she burrowed her nose into the crevice of his neck. Like an out-of-body experience, she could clearly see herself lapping at the spot on his neck. Spreading butterfly kisses across his torso. Over those heavenly pectoral muscles. But not a bit further. That's not what the deed was about. But Lord save her, she was tempted to. With great discipline, she stuck to her former thought and started lapping at his throat.

"Nibble. Suck. Pinch. Use teeth. Lap. Just, ahh-" By now, Draco as breathless. Its been a while since someone had shown so much attention to such a trivial task. Generally, the witch would simply bite hard during the throes of passion and that'd be that. It was the first time, to be honest, when someone was kissing his torso almost reverently. The moment that blasted moan had escaped her lips, Draco found paradise. To hear the prude queen moan did wonders to his male ego. And then, she burrowed her nose into his neck. Her hot breath on his neck, the small kisses as if she was scared to hurt him, the moistness her tongue left behind on its trail, everything felt like sweet death.

And then, she started nibbling. Sucking, but not hard enough.

"Go harder, Granger..." He hissed with all his strength.

Now focused to complete the task, Hermione started sucking harder on his pulse point. And then, she bit down on his neck. He hissed. Scared that she had hurt him, she tried to move away but a hand at the back of his neck halted her. Taking it as a cue to continue, she went back to sucking and biting different parts across his torso. And then placed the sweetest of kisses over the marks that were appearing. Happy with the outcome, she moved to have a final look over her mastepiece and unable to hold back, placed one final kiss over both his pectorals.

"Who knew you had a thing for pectorals, Granger?" Draco said, finally able to breathe after his _Petit mort_.

Looking at Hermione, he saw her own breathlesness and one look at his torso showed the reason. His chest was adorned with marks and bites. Not sharp, not hurtful, but pleasurable. Marks to remind him of a time when he lost control. And Malfoys rarely lost control. Coming down from his high, he gestured to his lap. He couldn't ignore the feel of a pert arse over his lap wanted to get out of the situation, before it went out of hand.

As if on cue, Hermione stood up, red faced, and made her way to her earlier seat.

Both the teens didn't know what to say to each other. What would you say tk your enemy after they've just marked your Torso? What would you say to the enemy whose torso you've just marked?

Breaking the silence, Hermione asked, "Now what? Do you get a deed too?"

And indeed, a parchment appeared in front of Draco. Hermione had expected Draco to flip out, be offended, or maybe smirk, mock her, or something along those lines. What she didn't expect, however, was for him to go blank, then perplexed.

He set the parchment down for Hermione to read and that's when she saw the flipping, the mortification, the gaping, only it was from her side.

If possible, this deed was worse than the last. Because across the parchment were written the words -

 _'Drink a body shot from between your partner's breasts.'_


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note - Well, I'm sorry! Please don't kill me. As I know you would've guessed, I was a tad bit busy. And honestly, I was developing the plot. It gets darker, later. Thank you guys for hanging on tight. And please review.**

 **Suggest me songs for strip tease! Draco's strip tease, lol. Next chapter will be a bit more salacious. This one was important for emotional development, I guess. I would love to hear how yoy want their conversations to flow.**

 **Keep Reviewing.**

"This can't be happening...this can't be happening. This cannot. Shall not. Will not happen. This can't..."

The given words kept running in loop in Hermione's mind. Sitting in the bathtub, all she could think of was to drown her perverse thoughts and her traitorous hormones. She shouldn't have enjoyed herself so much so as to have lost her control like a minx. It was her foray to say the least - to unleash all the bloody pheromones and fucking dry hump a fellow classmate. Said deliquency becomes a sated sin when the fellow classmate becomes Draco ferrety Malfoy.

Soaking in the relaxing water, she could still feel the valley between her breasts tingle with the feel of his lips sweeping across the deeper crevices, could practically taste his bites on the supple flesh of her breast. Could hear his soft breath released against her bosom. The hot breath raising her body temperature to dangerous levels. But she shouldn't.

Irregardless of the fact that he was a quintessential specimen of what an Adonis-on-Earth would look like, it was damn near deplorable for Hermione to have displayed such a wanton behaviour before the Adonis's clone.

She didn't love him. *Eye roll* Didn't even like him for that matter. That was not the issue. Her main concern was her sanity. Her future. Ferret or not, Draco Malfoy was, undoubtedly, the first ever person to have ignited the sexual fire deep within her. He was the first to have played her body in the age-old rhythm of two fellow humans. He was the first one to have made her feel like a woman. Draco Malfoy would always be her first lover.., of sorts. Damn those gryffindors and the Hogwarts song. She thought darkly.

The next time she'd be intimate with someone, she would, at least for a nanosecond, compare his hair with the silky strands of Draco bloody Malfoy, his grunts with the animalistic groans of Draco barbaric Malfoy, his sucking and biting to the dexterous fork-tongue of Draco Slimy Malfoy. Malfoy would stay alive and peachy in her memory in the near foreseeable future. And that didn't bade well with Hermione. She did not want to fantasize about the slimy git, not even for a few seconds. But she would. Perhaps not for all of eternity but for the next few weeks or days. She didn't want to want to know more about his sexual prowess - his kiss, his whispers, his chest, his abs, his di...

Bad thoughts, Hermione. She chided herself. She was going in deep. It was just the euphoria of her first time. The idea to cherish her newfound sexual liberty. That's it. It wouldn't have mattered if it had been Viktor in place of Malfoy, or even the guy from her neighbourhood who once broke her window trying to sneak into her house, or maybe not. All she had to do was to stay stoic and alert; if she wouldn't be vigilant now, it would very well be too late. She will play the game but with her mind and not her heart. And she will win.

Or so she thought.

000000000000000000000000000000000000

Outside in the room, Draco was having similar self-incapacitating thoughts. He was not a 14 year old lad who had just seen a bra for the first time in his entire existence. Far from it. He had seen it all and then some more; but then why did he give up his self-control to the prissy know-it-all?

The tripe of the 'forbidden fruit' was not adept to justify his behaviour. Was it just the thrill of being someone's first? He obviously hadn't had that oppurtunity in a very long time. And when said someone was Granger, well there wasn't a single red-blooded male who hadn't fantasized about bringing the Griffindor Princess down a notch or two. That would be it. The satisfaction of finally showing the mudblood her rightful place - underneath her superiors. Under him. He could feel a nagging voice in the back or his mind, trying to finagle its way to the forefront: a voice that questioned as to how exactly did pleasuring the know-it-all, tasting her flesh with so much care, bringing her to the precipe of infinite ecstasy equate to tormenting her. But that whisper was in the back for a reason and so it remained there. Or was rather forced to, by the young blonde who much preferred to go with his hormones than his heart, or brain for that matter.

It was just like Christmas - the ebullient mystery that surrounds the presents, the unbeatable delight one took in unwrapping one's present, unravelling the hidden treasure beneath all that ostentatious gift wrap. The cheshire cat smile that threatens to cover your face when you see the most unexpected yet magnificent gift you've ever received.

That was Hermione.

You've ever had a midnight hunger attack? You must be akin to the desperateness that engulfs you to scrounge for the tiniest morsel. You hunt. You sneak around. You drink water. You search the same cupboard thrice and just before you think of giving up, you find it! The leftover pie from dinner. Back at 8 p.m, it was no big deal. Just some pie.

But right here, right now, it becomes a life saviour. It becomes a meth and you the addict.

Not that Hermione was his life saviour, it was just that he'd never know this - Hermione- was what he'd been missing out on for so long. Her mewls and moans. The delicious scraping of her nails against the sensitive skin of his neck. The caresses to his jaw. His face pressed up against the valley between her glorious breats. Her cheeky butt over his lap.

Now he has had his own set(s) of paramours but none was so forbidden, curious, or personal. He had never been anyone's enemy. Someone's rival. Guess hate-sex isn't exaggerated at all.

I'll find out soon. Draco mused devillishly.

Come morning, they'd be both back at each other's neck, why not mark hers tonight? The ball would be in his court (pun intended) and he would win this game of seduction. He'll get his fill of the unknown that was Granger. Have a wild night and then would go on with his life and lies. He remembered Hermione's embarassment at the end of their round and as her enemy, he felt obliged to humiliate her further. And what bigger indignity than seeking pleasure from a Slytherin. Him! Of all the Slytherins.

So, the game was on and like in everything else, he'd win. With cunning, charms, and canoodling. Sappy Gryffindors.

Or so he thought.

000000000000000000000000000000000000

 _In the main room_

Hermione had finally managed to haul herself out of the bathtub to face her living nightmare.

The said living nightmare had reasonably calmed himself to face a living trollop (with a wicked tongue, his traitorous conscience added). While the past hour had been hot and heavy, this was plain awkward.

What can you say to your sworn enemy after a particularly piquant introduction to their breasts or pectorals?!

Forget the needle, you could have dropped a hair and it would sound like an explosion. Both the teenagers were stalling, not ready to look at the other. Their internal monologue didn't help matters. Seduction was out of window. So was indiffernce. Their initial prevarications were strangled by this tension between the two.

They were waiting for the other to do something. Anything. Where's your scathing slytherin smirk, Malfoy?

Where's your uppity, conscientious analysis, Granger?

And then, there was an explosion. One of massive level as there was not a hair fall. There was a Deed, and a debt. Both the teenagers started and put a stop to their internal struggles.

Hermione reached for the piece of parchement, no need to delay the inevitable, she thought with a sigh. Better get this over with. But after reading the deed, she felt that she was over. So was her life.

 _Seduce your partner with a strip tease and petting._

She had dropped the paper on 'strip'. Only heavens knew what petting would mean. Judging from last round, Draco was as docile as a dragon, literally.

She couldn't do this. Not only was she uncomfortable and naive but also because no one had seen her naked except her parents and her family doctor when she was 6. She couldn't give it up to Malfoy. He'd taunt her, insult her and make her realize how undesirable she is. Also because he didn't deserve it. He didn't deserve to be the first man to see her in all her naked.., glory?

No, she admonished herself, she would not follow the path of self deprication for a foul klutz like Malfoy no matter what debt she would have to pay. After the first round, she was expecting the worst.

 _Please no torturing anyone, no bullying house elves. Please._

During her internal prayers, her debt card appearee before her. With her eyes closed and fingers crossed, she reached for the debt card. She cracked one eye open. Then the other. Read the darn debt and blinked.

 _Is this supposed to be worse than the deed? Is it transgression?_

There on the debt card were the words

 _Reveal a secret._

That's it? A secret? Don't get it wrong, secrets are precious and perilious but only the palpable ones. People would care if you told them your first murder. Your greatest embezzlement. Your alternate life as a mafia. But they wouldn't give a gnome's worth of attention to your first kiss in grade 6 (spin the bottle, everyone) or how you lied to your parents about the report card.

Hermione could use that. Reveal a secret. Any secret that wouldn't give Malfoy any sort of ammunition. And so she pondered while she took the debt slip in her hands.

On the other side, Draco was astonished. Granger really chose a secret over seduction. Save me, Slytherin! Any secret, big or small, has the potential to petrify a person pathetically. Presumptuous Gryffindor. Even something as innocuous as your first crush, first kiss, first lie could get you in trouble. He still remembered how Pansy blackmailed him for weeks following his revelation of that one time he magically locked Lucius' cane in a closet so he couldn't punish him for one whole week before the house elves were able to retrieve it. But perhaps, this could work in his favor. Everybody wants to know everything there is to the golden girl. He was chirpy just thinking about all the favours he could earn by spilling Granger's secret.

Seeing how Granger would be a goody good slouzy, perhaps he'll exaggerate the secret. Yes, that could help. He'll just -

"Back in second year, I wished you were dead." Hermione's sudden outburst shut whatever Draco was about to think. Raising a cool eyebrow, he replied nonchalantly, "In case you didn't get the memo, the feeling was mutual." Honestly, that was Granger's secret! Even Mrs. Norris knew that.

Sneaky Mudblood found her way out this one, Draco thought darkly.

"You don't understand Malfoy. I-I have never wished anyone death before. Seriously injured, maybe. Voldermort in hell, of course but death and that too when I was just 13! I hated you Malfoy. You stood against all my idols. I could never see the good in you, could never forgive you. You brought out the worst in me. I-I hated you." Hermione ended in a soft voice. She didn't understand why she revealed that particular information.

Yes, everyone knew she hated him. They were everything the other person fought against! But, it was more than that. In some sense, Malfoy was the first to corrupt her conscience, her innocence. She had hurt people; even killed on the battlefield but she always thought that that dark streak was brewed and nurtured by Malfoy. By his actions, his taunts, his bullying. And she hated him for it. But, not anymore. She couldn't because -

"You don't hate me anymore? Why?" Hermione had grown pale following her admission. Draco had waited for her to continue, to realize her grammar mistake or give a clarification about how he was already dead for her. Anything! He was waiting with bated breath but nothing came. She was lost in her thoughts. Draco couldn't take it anymore and jumped the question before her. Or rather his farfetched guess because surely Granger still hates me. Doesn't she? He wasn't so sure anymore.

She had meant to deny it, shrug it off and move on with the game. That was the sensible thing to do. But when she looked up and saw Malfoy fidgeting, sporting a nervous look that she could have never imagined on a Malfoy, let alone Malfoy, she felt that he needed to know. He needed her forgiveness or her indifference or anything but her hate. War did that to them. It changed their perspectives and their necessities. She had seen Malfoy being all cold, ruthless and indifferent amidst the crowd in the corridors. Being a Malfoy. Everyone saw that. What no one saw was Malfoy being Draco. Late night, in the library, while she would be studying an advanced text or just some trashy romantic story (guilty pleasure, alright!), she would see a solitary figure bent over a tome, his stance all agitated, his posture lanky, his clothes crinkled. She would see Draco hunched over the book, but his mind would be worlds afar. He would look into space and just look...lost. Not so cruel or snarky. But someone who was indescribably sad: someone who had given up. She knew so because following the war, she had given up too. So many people, so many places, so much guilt! It ate her from inside. People were worshipping them, all hailing the Golden Trio. But at every event, they could see people mourning. While they received awards and appraisals for their bravery, thousands remained unnamed, unknown, unsung. Harry and Ron had joined the Auror department partly out of interest and partly as a responsibility: they wanted to serve justice. They wanted to somehow placate the guilt of how they couldn't save so many people. How there were some permanently damaged at St. Mungo's just because they stood up for a Harry Potter, a Ron Weasley, and a Hermione Granger. How they gave up their lives to protect the Boy who lived, the golden trio. She knew that pain but academics and her friends had helped her -as much as they could. They were there to convince her how it wasn't her mistake. She wasn't wrong or selfish or a coward. How she was brave and daring and inspirational. How she was Hermione Granger.

But Draco Malfoy had noone. His friends were facing their own demons and though the Slytherins did stick together, they were more snakes than friends. No one was there to tell him that it wasn't his fault. No loud encouragement in a sea of whispers. Noone to allow him to redeem himself. And one night, he had slipped. She saw him. Draco Malfoy had cried. Just a tear but a tear nonetheless. That was when she had realized that Malfoy was so much more. And how she did not hate him. She wanted to assure him how he wasn't a coward. He did what he had to. It wasn't his fault. She forgave him. And so she told him.

"I don't hate you Malfoy. I have seen you. During the war and after it. You are a changed man whether you believe it or not. You're not evil and you do not deserve to die. You deserve a chance. You deserve redemption. You deserve a new beginning. You helped us, Malfoy. We wouldn't have won in the grand design if not for your decision. And for that, I thank you and I forgive you. You're a good man, Draco Malfoy."

Draco was stunned. He didn't know how much he needed this. The guilt had been killing him. He had killed Dumbledore, allowed the death eaters in the castle, started the war. And everyone did a fantastic job in reminding him of the same, everyday. His friends were no help but then what had he expected? They would hex the gossip mongers for him but would not talk to him. Tell him that it was not his mistake. He did not mean it. He could still be saved. He was dying to hear those words without even realizing and now those words came from Granger!

He was beyond bewildered. She forgave him! For calling her a mudblood, for bullying her, for being a foul, loathsome, evil, littke coackroach?! For the first time, he comprehended her: her innate goodness. Her innocence. Her morality. Herself. And Draco knew he was doomed when he realized that he would take this secret to the grave. Noone deserved to doubt Hermiome Granger's innocence and inspiration when she was sitting before him like an epitome or everything good. Everything divine. She might be a mudblood but she was just so...pure! He waa getting a headache from all the paradoxes.

Granger was looking down, her fingers entwined with each other, resting on her lap. She was nervous. Of her revelation? Was she ashamed? Did she think he was honestly not worth her forgiveness? Did it affect him so much if she did?

Now that was dangerous waters. Better to steer clear for as long as possible, Draco thought.

He cleared his throat and said, "Well, that was unexpected." Her expression dropped. "But not unwelcomed. This is cumbersome, but thank you, Granger. You deserve every good thing."

Her head whipped up. _There must be mistake. Did he just-_

Draco could see it in her eyes: she was analyzing and over analyzing his unexpected remark. He had not meant to say it all. He just.. did!

To prevent the elephant in the room becoming heavier, he said, "So I reckon it's my turn. Let's see, shall we?"

He didn't wait for her reply and instead took up the deeds and debt cards that had appeared.

Hermione recognized his tactic but said nothing. For once, she agreed with his way. _Why not adopt ignorance?_ It would work for both of them and their sanity too. But one look at his puzzled face and locked jaw told her that it wasn't going to be sanely safe for either one of them.

He set the cards down, giving nothing away. But one look at the cards confirmed her inhibitions. There on the deed card was written

 _Reveal a secret._

And the debt card, naturally was

 _Seduce your partner with a strip tease and petting._

It was going to be a long night.

They both thought.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note - Well, I'm sorry! Please don't kill me. As I know you would've guessed, I was a tad bit busy. And honestly, I was developing the plot. It gets darker, later. Thank you guys for hanging on tight. And please review.**

 **Suggest me songs for strip tease! Draco's strip tease, lol. Next chapter will be a bit more salacious. This one was important for emotional development, I guess. I would love to hear how yoy want their conversations to flow.**

 **Keep Reviewing.**

"This can't be happening...this can't be happening. This cannot. Shall not. Will not happen. This can't..."

The given words kept running in loop in Hermione's mind. Sitting in the bathtub, all she could think of was to drown her perverse thoughts and her traitorous hormones. She shouldn't have enjoyed herself so much so as to have lost her control like a minx. It was her foray to say the least - to unleash all the bloody pheromones and fucking dry hump a fellow classmate. Said deliquency becomes a sated sin when the fellow classmate becomes Draco ferrety Malfoy.

Soaking in the relaxing water, she could still feel the valley between her breasts tingle with the feel of his lips sweeping across the deeper crevices, could practically taste his bites on the supple flesh of her breast. Could hear his soft breath released against her bosom. The hot breath raising her body temperature to dangerous levels. But she shouldn't.

Irregardless of the fact that he was a quintessential specimen of what an Adonis-on-Earth would look like, it was damn near deplorable for Hermione to have displayed such a wanton behaviour before the Adonis's clone.

She didn't love him. *Eye roll* Didn't even like him for that matter. That was not the issue. Her main concern was her sanity. Her future. Ferret or not, Draco Malfoy was, undoubtedly, the first ever person to have ignited the sexual fire deep within her. He was the first to have played her body in the age-old rhythm of two fellow humans. He was the first one to have made her feel like a woman. Draco Malfoy would always be her first lover.., of sorts. Damn those gryffindors and the Hogwarts song. She thought darkly.

The next time she'd be intimate with someone, she would, at least for a nanosecond, compare his hair with the silky strands of Draco bloody Malfoy, his grunts with the animalistic groans of Draco barbaric Malfoy, his sucking and biting to the dexterous fork-tongue of Draco Slimy Malfoy. Malfoy would stay alive and peachy in her memory in the near foreseeable future. And that didn't bade well with Hermione. She did not want to fantasize about the slimy git, not even for a few seconds. But she would. Perhaps not for all of eternity but for the next few weeks or days. She didn't want to want to know more about his sexual prowess - his kiss, his whispers, his chest, his abs, his di...

Bad thoughts, Hermione. She chided herself. She was going in deep. It was just the euphoria of her first time. The idea to cherish her newfound sexual liberty. That's it. It wouldn't have mattered if it had been Viktor in place of Malfoy, or even the guy from her neighbourhood who once broke her window trying to sneak into her house, or maybe not. All she had to do was to stay stoic and alert; if she wouldn't be vigilant now, it would very well be too late. She will play the game but with her mind and not her heart. And she will win.

Or so she thought.

000000000000000000000000000000000000

Outside in the room, Draco was having similar self-incapacitating thoughts. He was not a 14 year old lad who had just seen a bra for the first time in his entire existence. Far from it. He had seen it all and then some more; but then why did he give up his self-control to the prissy know-it-all?

The tripe of the 'forbidden fruit' was not adept to justify his behaviour. Was it just the thrill of being someone's first? He obviously hadn't had that oppurtunity in a very long time. And when said someone was Granger, well there wasn't a single red-blooded male who hadn't fantasized about bringing the Griffindor Princess down a notch or two. That would be it. The satisfaction of finally showing the mudblood her rightful place - underneath her superiors. Under him. He could feel a nagging voice in the back or his mind, trying to finagle its way to the forefront: a voice that questioned as to how exactly did pleasuring the know-it-all, tasting her flesh with so much care, bringing her to the precipe of infinite ecstasy equate to tormenting her. But that whisper was in the back for a reason and so it remained there. Or was rather forced to, by the young blonde who much preferred to go with his hormones than his heart, or brain for that matter.

It was just like Christmas - the ebullient mystery that surrounds the presents, the unbeatable delight one took in unwrapping one's present, unravelling the hidden treasure beneath all that ostentatious gift wrap. The cheshire cat smile that threatens to cover your face when you see the most unexpected yet magnificent gift you've ever received.

That was Hermione.

You've ever had a midnight hunger attack? You must be akin to the desperateness that engulfs you to scrounge for the tiniest morsel. You hunt. You sneak around. You drink water. You search the same cupboard thrice and just before you think of giving up, you find it! The leftover pie from dinner. Back at 8 p.m, it was no big deal. Just some pie.

But right here, right now, it becomes a life saviour. It becomes a meth and you the addict.

Not that Hermione was his life saviour, it was just that he'd never know this - Hermione- was what he'd been missing out on for so long. Her mewls and moans. The delicious scraping of her nails against the sensitive skin of his neck. The caresses to his jaw. His face pressed up against the valley between her glorious breats. Her cheeky butt over his lap.

Now he has had his own set(s) of paramours but none was so forbidden, curious, or personal. He had never been anyone's enemy. Someone's rival. Guess hate-sex isn't exaggerated at all.

I'll find out soon. Draco mused devillishly.

Come morning, they'd be both back at each other's neck, why not mark hers tonight? The ball would be in his court (pun intended) and he would win this game of seduction. He'll get his fill of the unknown that was Granger. Have a wild night and then would go on with his life and lies. He remembered Hermione's embarassment at the end of their round and as her enemy, he felt obliged to humiliate her further. And what bigger indignity than seeking pleasure from a Slytherin. Him! Of all the Slytherins.

So, the game was on and like in everything else, he'd win. With cunning, charms, and canoodling. Sappy Gryffindors.

Or so he thought.

000000000000000000000000000000000000

 _In the main room_

Hermione had finally managed to haul herself out of the bathtub to face her living nightmare.

The said living nightmare had reasonably calmed himself to face a living trollop (with a wicked tongue, his traitorous conscience added). While the past hour had been hot and heavy, this was plain awkward.

What can you say to your sworn enemy after a particularly piquant introduction to their breasts or pectorals?!

Forget the needle, you could have dropped a hair and it would sound like an explosion. Both the teenagers were stalling, not ready to look at the other. Their internal monologue didn't help matters. Seduction was out of window. So was indiffernce. Their initial prevarications were strangled by this tension between the two.

They were waiting for the other to do something. Anything. Where's your scathing slytherin smirk, Malfoy?

Where's your uppity, conscientious analysis, Granger?

And then, there was an explosion. One of massive level as there was not a hair fall. There was a Deed, and a debt. Both the teenagers started and put a stop to their internal struggles.

Hermione reached for the piece of parchement, no need to delay the inevitable, she thought with a sigh. Better get this over with. But after reading the deed, she felt that she was over. So was her life.

 _Seduce your partner with a strip tease and petting._

She had dropped the paper on 'strip'. Only heavens knew what petting would mean. Judging from last round, Draco was as docile as a dragon, literally.

She couldn't do this. Not only was she uncomfortable and naive but also because no one had seen her naked except her parents and her family doctor when she was 6. She couldn't give it up to Malfoy. He'd taunt her, insult her and make her realize how undesirable she is. Also because he didn't deserve it. He didn't deserve to be the first man to see her in all her naked.., glory?

No, she admonished herself, she would not follow the path of self deprication for a foul klutz like Malfoy no matter what debt she would have to pay. After the first round, she was expecting the worst.

 _Please no torturing anyone, no bullying house elves. Please._

During her internal prayers, her debt card appearee before her. With her eyes closed and fingers crossed, she reached for the debt card. She cracked one eye open. Then the other. Read the darn debt and blinked.

 _Is this supposed to be worse than the deed? Is it transgression?_

There on the debt card were the words

 _Reveal a secret._

That's it? A secret? Don't get it wrong, secrets are precious and perilious but only the palpable ones. People would care if you told them your first murder. Your greatest embezzlement. Your alternate life as a mafia. But they wouldn't give a gnome's worth of attention to your first kiss in grade 6 (spin the bottle, everyone) or how you lied to your parents about the report card.

Hermione could use that. Reveal a secret. Any secret that wouldn't give Malfoy any sort of ammunition. And so she pondered while she took the debt slip in her hands.

On the other side, Draco was astonished. Granger really chose a secret over seduction. Save me, Slytherin! Any secret, big or small, has the potential to petrify a person pathetically. Presumptuous Gryffindor. Even something as innocuous as your first crush, first kiss, first lie could get you in trouble. He still remembered how Pansy blackmailed him for weeks following his revelation of that one time he magically locked Lucius' cane in a closet so he couldn't punish him for one whole week before the house elves were able to retrieve it. But perhaps, this could work in his favor. Everybody wants to know everything there is to the golden girl. He was chirpy just thinking about all the favours he could earn by spilling Granger's secret.

Seeing how Granger would be a goody good slouzy, perhaps he'll exaggerate the secret. Yes, that could help. He'll just -

"Back in second year, I wished you were dead." Hermione's sudden outburst shut whatever Draco was about to think. Raising a cool eyebrow, he replied nonchalantly, "In case you didn't get the memo, the feeling was mutual." Honestly, that was Granger's secret! Even Mrs. Norris knew that.

Sneaky Mudblood found her way out this one, Draco thought darkly.

"You don't understand Malfoy. I-I have never wished anyone death before. Seriously injured, maybe. Voldermort in hell, of course but death and that too when I was just 13! I hated you Malfoy. You stood against all my idols. I could never see the good in you, could never forgive you. You brought out the worst in me. I-I hated you." Hermione ended in a soft voice. She didn't understand why she revealed that particular information.

Yes, everyone knew she hated him. They were everything the other person fought against! But, it was more than that. In some sense, Malfoy was the first to corrupt her conscience, her innocence. She had hurt people; even killed on the battlefield but she always thought that that dark streak was brewed and nurtured by Malfoy. By his actions, his taunts, his bullying. And she hated him for it. But, not anymore. She couldn't because -

"You don't hate me anymore? Why?" Hermione had grown pale following her admission. Draco had waited for her to continue, to realize her grammar mistake or give a clarification about how he was already dead for her. Anything! He was waiting with bated breath but nothing came. She was lost in her thoughts. Draco couldn't take it anymore and jumped the question before her. Or rather his farfetched guess because surely Granger still hates me. Doesn't she? He wasn't so sure anymore.

She had meant to deny it, shrug it off and move on with the game. That was the sensible thing to do. But when she looked up and saw Malfoy fidgeting, sporting a nervous look that she could have never imagined on a Malfoy, let alone Malfoy, she felt that he needed to know. He needed her forgiveness or her indifference or anything but her hate. War did that to them. It changed their perspectives and their necessities. She had seen Malfoy being all cold, ruthless and indifferent amidst the crowd in the corridors. Being a Malfoy. Everyone saw that. What no one saw was Malfoy being Draco. Late night, in the library, while she would be studying an advanced text or just some trashy romantic story (guilty pleasure, alright!), she would see a solitary figure bent over a tome, his stance all agitated, his posture lanky, his clothes crinkled. She would see Draco hunched over the book, but his mind would be worlds afar. He would look into space and just look...lost. Not so cruel or snarky. But someone who was indescribably sad: someone who had given up. She knew so because following the war, she had given up too. So many people, so many places, so much guilt! It ate her from inside. People were worshipping them, all hailing the Golden Trio. But at every event, they could see people mourning. While they received awards and appraisals for their bravery, thousands remained unnamed, unknown, unsung. Harry and Ron had joined the Auror department partly out of interest and partly as a responsibility: they wanted to serve justice. They wanted to somehow placate the guilt of how they couldn't save so many people. How there were some permanently damaged at St. Mungo's just because they stood up for a Harry Potter, a Ron Weasley, and a Hermione Granger. How they gave up their lives to protect the Boy who lived, the golden trio. She knew that pain but academics and her friends had helped her -as much as they could. They were there to convince her how it wasn't her mistake. She wasn't wrong or selfish or a coward. How she was brave and daring and inspirational. How she was Hermione Granger.

But Draco Malfoy had noone. His friends were facing their own demons and though the Slytherins did stick together, they were more snakes than friends. No one was there to tell him that it wasn't his fault. No loud encouragement in a sea of whispers. Noone to allow him to redeem himself. And one night, he had slipped. She saw him. Draco Malfoy had cried. Just a tear but a tear nonetheless. That was when she had realized that Malfoy was so much more. And how she did not hate him. She wanted to assure him how he wasn't a coward. He did what he had to. It wasn't his fault. She forgave him. And so she told him.

"I don't hate you Malfoy. I have seen you. During the war and after it. You are a changed man whether you believe it or not. You're not evil and you do not deserve to die. You deserve a chance. You deserve redemption. You deserve a new beginning. You helped us, Malfoy. We wouldn't have won in the grand design if not for your decision. And for that, I thank you and I forgive you. You're a good man, Draco Malfoy."

Draco was stunned. He didn't know how much he needed this. The guilt had been killing him. He had killed Dumbledore, allowed the death eaters in the castle, started the war. And everyone did a fantastic job in reminding him of the same, everyday. His friends were no help but then what had he expected? They would hex the gossip mongers for him but would not talk to him. Tell him that it was not his mistake. He did not mean it. He could still be saved. He was dying to hear those words without even realizing and now those words came from Granger!

He was beyond bewilderment. She forgave him! For calling her a mudblood, for bullying her, for being a foul, loathsome, evil, littke coackroach?! For the first time, he comprehended her: her innate goodness. Her innocence. Her morality. Herself. And Draco knew he was doomed when he realized that he would take this secret to the grave. Noone deserved to doubt Hermiome Granger's innocence and inspiration when she was sitting before him like an epitome or everything good. Everything divine. She might be a mudblood but she was just so...pure! He waa getting a headache from all the paradoxes.

Granger was looking down, her fingers entwined with each other, resting on her lap. She was nervous. Of her revelation? Was she ashamed? Did she think he was honestly not worth her forgiveness? Did it affect him so much if she did?

Now that was dangerous waters. Better to steer clear for as long as possible, Draco thought.

He cleared his throat and said, "Well, that was unexpected." Her expression dropped. "But not unwelcomed. This is cumbersome, but thank you, Granger. You deserve every good thing."

Her head whipped up. _There must be mistake. Did he just-_

Draco could see it in her eyes: she was analyzing and over analyzing his unexpected remark. He had not meant to say it all. He just.. did!

To prevent the elephant in the room becoming heavier, he said, "So I reckon it's my turn. Let's see, shall we?"

He didn't wait for her reply and instead took up the deeds and debt cards that had appeared.

Hermione recognized his tactic but said nothing. For once, she agreed with his way. _Why not adopt ignorance?_ It would work for both of them and their sanity too. But one look at his puzzled face and locked jaw told her that it wasn't going to be sanely safe for either one of them.

He set the cards down, giving nothing away. But one look at the cards confirmed her inhibitions. There on the deed card was written

 _Reveal a secret._

And the debt card, naturally was

 _Seduce your partner with a strip tease and petting._

It was going to be a long night.

They both thought.


End file.
